


i am the king jj

by au_spice



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, One-Sided Attraction, Slow Burn, rated M for future chapters, whoops my hand slipped
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-08 21:20:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8862541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/au_spice/pseuds/au_spice
Summary: He didn’t--doesn’t--know how this happened.One minute he was gloating about his guaranteed marriage with his fiancee when he wins the gold (because that’s definitely going to happen) and the next, he sees himself in dead last place.





	1. no one can stop me

**Author's Note:**

> I watched episode 11 and couldn't help myself #sorrynotsorry

He didn’t-- _doesn’t_ \--know how this happened.

One minute he was gloating about his guaranteed marriage with his fiancee when he wins the gold (because that’s _definitely_ going to happen) and the next, he sees himself in dead last place. He doesn’t look up at the scoreboard expectantly like he usually does because he knows that he bombed it this time. There’s nothing to be prideful of, and everything--all the reassurances that he, JJ, is still the best; all the comforting and the pretty nice talk--is muffled by the sensation of his heart dropping and his egotism crashing.

"JJ! JJ! JJ!" He turns his head in the direction of his fiancee, Isabella, and is surprised to see that she isn't disappointed... But why? He's pretty much ruined all chances he had of placing first. He promised to win her the gold, and he promised that they'd get married when he did. All of that big talk only served to embarrass him further. It was looking at a tiny faint light through the darkness of humiliation and anxiety--it was there, but didn't help much. The audience joins in with the chanting and the lump in his throat disappears. He stands up abruptly, his coach's hand on his shoulder sliding right off as his two hands push outwards.

"Stop!" His voice holds conviction. The cheering stops as he crosses his hands and folds his fingers into pistols, "It's JJ style!"

His voice cracks in the middle subtly and it escapes the noticing of everyone around him from what he can see. The corner of his lip quirks upwards into a makeshift grin. Even in bleak circumstances, he _must_ remind himself that he is the king. His confidence is just an act now, but it won't matter for long. He'll make up for it in the free skate, for sure.

-

His phone buzzes the entire way back to his hotel room and still keeps going. He lacks the energy to turn it off and lays on his bed idly as minutes go by, then hours. Time seems to blur. It’s not like him at all to be so sad and depressing, but it feels like his career is at rock bottom. Out of all the times he could’ve experienced self-doubt, and it happens now. He doesn’t know how to deal with it, but decides to start by checking his phone. There’s a mountain of notifications waiting for him, and he clears them all. Doesn’t want to deal with it. He decides to pass his absence off as grabbing a few drinks and hanging with his fiancee if anyone asks, and someone probably will, given his popularity. After all, he is JJ, and no one can forget him. His internal monologue of self-reassurance is interrupted by the phone beeping and a single name appears on the screen.

_Seung Gil Lee._

JJ only vaguely remembers pestering the other skater until they exchanged numbers after the Rostelecom Cup when he was drunk. Had Seung Gil called to comfort him? Was the Korean even that considerate? He laughed, telling himself that his fanbase even included his competition, but for the first time in years, he felt a slight bit of doubt tug at his heartstrings. Nonetheless, he accepted the call. There is silence.

“Hello? Phichit?” The voice on the other end is a familiar baritone; music to JJ’s ears.

“No it’s _JJ_.” JJ forces a hearty laugh, feeling disappointment as he realizes that the call is not meant for him. He emphasizes his own name because it’s of importance. He isn’t sure if he’s making it clear to Seung Gil that he’s important or if he’s making it clear to himself that he’s important. Silence.

Seung Gil’s voice is flat and humorless. “Oh, I see. I must’ve called the wrong number. My apologies.”

JJ knows the other isn’t sorry and starts, “Yes, you called the number of a--”

There’s a click as Seung Gil hangs up. Despite his self-confidence being relatively damaged, JJ still cannot stand the idea of being hung up on without a proper farewell and calls Seung Gil once more. Just before he’s directed to voicemail, he hears a click and light static in the background as the other skater picks up. “What do you want?” He sounds annoyed.

JJ isn't prepared for the question and hesitates, sensing the discontent in Seung Gil's voice.

"Of course, if a fan calls me, then they must want a conversation."

"I told you. It was an accident." Seung Gil doesn't sound pleased.

"It was fate." JJ interjects with a laugh, only realizing how odd the way he worded it is when he finishes his sentence. He hesitates, "Well not that type of fate, but surely some sort of higher being-"

"I'm hanging up on you." He hears the shifting of fabric and knows that the Korean is about to end the call.

“Okay, okay. I wanted a conversation." JJ states, concealing the haste in his words, but the nervousness is evident. It's not like him to submit to the threat of being hung up on at all.


	2. this is who i am, baby

Seung Gil sighs as he lays down on the bed of his hotel room, the weight of his body pushing down on the expensive, plush mattress. He has come to support his friend, Phichit, but clearly he’s getting more than he bargained for. After all, he’s on the phone with the formerly biggest contender for the Grand Prix gold medal, extra emphasis on _formerly_. Seeing the prideful Canadian blunder on national television was not as satisfying as Seung Gil thought it would be, and he even feels a little pity for the man. Or rather, felt, seeing as the same person is now pestering him on the phone to no end. He has half a mind to just end things and hang up, but something is stopping him from doing it. Seung Gil merely sneers, “A conversation? What would we talk about?”

“How about just how amazing I am?”

Seung Gil is just about to hit the end call button when he hears a sniffle and he hesitates, not expecting such a vulnerable sound to come from JJ. “Are you… Crying?”

“No.” JJ’s voice crack doesn’t escape his noticing. Seung Gil doesn’t even know why he feels an ounce of concern--he came to cheer on Phichit, not some insufferable prick--but he does. The black-haired stoic rolls his eyes at the obvious lie. He recalls the way JJ slumped his way to the kiss and cry booth instead of his typical confident stride, remembers the way that the skater had his head bowed down in shame as he faced the lowest score he’d ever received at the most crucial point of his career thus far. Something in his gut twisted at the thought.

“I-” Seung Gil stammers, remembering how he himself felt when he placed sixth at the Rostelecom Cup, “... I understand how you feel.”

When JJ doesn’t respond (it’s the first time Seung Gil has heard him shut up since they first talked), he wonders if he said something wrong. He hears JJ take a long shuddery breath as he admits, “I-I don’t know what I’m… Doing… Why did I have to feel so anxious a-and… And so scared? Why at the final?!”

JJ’s voice begins to raise and crack, hiccups spilling from his lips and into the phone as a chill runs along the length of Seung Gil’s spine as he hears the anger and resentment in the Canadian’s voice towards himself. Seung Gil understands, sympathizes just _so painfully well_ , because he went through it just weeks ago and buried himself away from the rink. He hasn’t touched the ice since his free skate at the Rostelecom Cup much to his coach’s chagrin. Seung Gil speaks, voice chilled and calm but softer now, “I understand.”

“Like hell you do.” JJ’s voice drips with acid. “Your fiancee wasn’t watching. You didn’t have all these expectations… I’ve disappointed my fans.”

“You’re right.” Something in Seung Gil snaps. “I don’t have a fiancee nor do I want to, but I still get it. When I didn’t make it to finals, I was _crushed_ . You made it this far, which is already something to be proud of. Treasure that achievement.” Is he trying to comfort JJ? Why?

“I-” He hears sobbing on the other end and Seung Gil’s stomach wrenches in on itself; he knows he’s being too harsh. “I know that… But I disappointed everyone--my supporters, my coach, Isabella… You’re disappointed, too, aren’t you?”

“Me?” Seung Gil immediately questions. Is JJ implying that he’s important or is Seung Gil looking too much into it? He frowns at the thought; neither sounded pleasant. “I’m not disappointed. Why would I be?”

JJ doesn’t reply and there’s a click when he hangs up without a goodbye. Seung Gil throws down his phone in frustration and regret. He could have phrased that better and his own harshness leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He wants to apologize, but his pride won’t let him.

Shitty Canadian skaters.

Seconds later, his phone beeps. Seung Gil turns it over to see what it is, predicting that it’s an angry message from Phichit since he did hang up on his friend to receive JJ’s call, and he’s wrong. The contact name is “King JJ♛♛♛”, which the younger man had entered in himself. Seung Gil immediately makes note to change it to “insufferable prick” later.

-

(22:17) King JJ♛♛♛: hey

(22:17) King JJ♛♛♛: i’m sorry

(22:17) King JJ♛♛♛: i wasn’t thinking straight

-  
Seung Gil reads it quickly. He doesn’t get why JJ didn’t say this before hanging up, but smiles at the texts upon receiving them anyway. The man doesn’t know how to respond, so he decides not to.

-

(22:20) King JJ♛♛♛: i really want to

(22:20) King JJ♛♛♛: be friends

-

This time, he wrinkles his face, slowly grinding out a reply as he tries wording it as best as he can. The amount of effort he puts in is laughable when compared to JJ’s effortless all-lower cased text-talk, but it’s hilarious--not _adorable_ \--how fast JJ replies.

-

(22:23) SGL: Fine.

(22:23) King JJ♛♛♛: whoo

(22:23) King JJ♛♛♛: btw i’m really sorry for lashing out

(22:23) King JJ♛♛♛: i wasn’t being myself

(22:45) SGL: Stop apologizing. I already told you that it’s okay.

(22:45) King JJ♛♛♛: ok ;)

(22:45) King JJ♛♛♛: whoops *:)

(22:45) King JJ♛♛♛: well maybe just a little “;)”

(22:50) King JJ♛♛♛: yo wanna go out for some coffee rn 

-

Seung Gil is extremely surprised at how quickly JJ rebounded from a sobbing mess to asking a stranger to grab a cup of coffee with him. He envies the other's mental strength and the way he just brushes off losses and failures so easily.

-

(23:12) SGL: No.

(23:12) King JJ♛♛♛: alright see you at starbucks in 10

(23:15) SGL: I said no.

(23:15) King JJ♛♛♛: their frappes are pretty good lol

(23:18) SGL: Are you reading what I’m saying?

(23:18) King JJ♛♛♛: it’s awkward here at starbucks all alone hurry up

-

Seung Gil shakes his head as he rolls off his hotel bed, swiping a coat from its place hanging off the hook on the front door as he leaves the warm confines of his hotel room.


	3. just follow me off the ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I tried writing some cafe fluff but it didn't work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: hey write some sweet fluff  
> me to me: lol nah

 

It’s 11:15 when JJ sets foot in Starbucks, dressed in a hooded jacket, jeans, and sneakers. The cafe is warm and welcoming compared to the snowy outdoors, but he’s accustomed to colder environments. He wouldn’t be a true Canadian if he weren’t. The skater stands by the doorway and doesn’t do much aside from checking his phone every minute, waiting for Seung Gil to arrive before they order their drinks.

It’s 11:18 when JJ receives a text to which he responds instantly, still patiently waiting. The cafe is to close in less than 45 minutes, and he knows that they won’t be getting much talking in beforehand, but he can only hope. He figures that being stood up wouldn’t matter much anyway, considering how he has Isabella to share a coffee with already in the likely instance that Seung Gil shows up. The clock hits 11:24 when JJ decides that he’s sick of waiting and gets in the very short line to get his fill of coffee, and right when that happens, an ivory-skinned man with the fashion sense of a blind wild animal waltzes through the double doors of Starbucks, his entrance eliciting the sound of bells. The tips of the new arrival’s ears and nose are a soft pink, almost red, his face pale as the moon and complexion complemented by the dim lighting of the cafe and his hair, black as the night, tousled as though he had just tumbled out of bed.

JJ turns his head and catches sight of the Korean, immediately and correctly identifying him by the grumpy expression on his face and the way his eyebrows furrow. How JJ remembers such small details of the man’s face, he doesn’t know. He waves, failing to stop the idiotic grin spreading across his face. “Took you long enough.”

“Well, I wasn’t the idiot that decided to invite someone out on such short notice.” Seung Gil scolds. The very brief smile that graces his lips works like magic on JJ’s mood.

“You showed up anyway, _love_.” JJ teases, places emphasis on the name as he gestures for Seung Gil to accompany him in line. “That’s certainly some dedication.”

“... ‘Love’?” Seung Gil echoes, clearly baffled by what he seemed to have taken as an advance.

“It’s a joke.” JJ explains, attention too focused on the barista at the counter to notice the other’s unconcealed disappointment. There’s a thick, suffocating silence that follows as the conversation dies out.

The barista asks, “May I take your order?”

She has short dark hair, pale skin that seems to glow, and delicate features. She’s also very serious; seems like the “no nonsense” kind of person, not the type to sugarcoat anything. JJ likes that. He responds, “Tall, nonfat latte. 2% foam.”

“Is that it?” She taps in the order.

“Black coffee.” Seung Gil interjects.

“What size?”

There’s a pause. It’s clear that Seung Gil is not a regular. “Small.”

“Alright, so a _short_ black coffee.”

“... Yes.” Seung Gil replies awkwardly, acknowledging his mistake. He appears to be embarrassed, JJ notes at the slight flush of the other’s cheeks.

“And what are your names?”

“I’m JJ and this is Seung Gil.” He introduces, making the signature “J” with his fingers.

“Alright.” The barista replies humorlessly, not even a bit amused by the flashy gesture. She turns and proceeds to process the order. JJ isn’t disheartened by the lack of reaction at all; in fact, it fuels him to regain his charm as he leads Seung Gil to a table in the back to wait for their order. He takes a seat.

“This place closes in less than half an hour.” Seung Gil states out of annoyance. “Why did you decide to make me come here _now_?”

“Half an hour is better than nothing.” JJ shrugs. “What hotel are you staying at, anyway?”

“The one about five minutes from here.” He mutters, unable to remember its name.

JJ stifles a laugh, finding the fact that they happened to book a room at the same hotel a very interesting coincidence. “I’m staying there, too. Surely you didn’t walk here in such cold weather.”

“I did.” All the more reason for Seung Gil to be annoyed, JJ senses. The older one explains in a gruff, harsh tone, his voice gradually raising, “Why would I bring a car all the way with me to Barcelona? Public transportation would be more of a bother than it’s worth since it’s so close.”

JJ is surprised because he had never heard Seung Gil speak so many words at a time, and Seung Gil himself seems fairly perplexed as well at the sudden outburst. The Canadian gives a chuckle, “True. I walked here, too. Let’s walk back together!”

Seung Gil doesn’t reply; it’s as though he thinks saying nothing will compensate for his sudden downpour of words a moment ago.

“So which hotel room are you staying in?” Another moment of silence before JJ continues, “I’m staying at room 715.”

Seung Gil’s form stiffens. He mumbles something about switching hotel rooms.

“Why would you switch?” JJ asks naively.

“Because I’m right next door.” Seung Gil doesn’t sound pleased. His words are sharp like a blade, dripping acid with the toxicity of a cobra’s venom. He adds cruelly, “It’s a miracle that I didn’t hear you run your mouth or cry earlier.”

“I wasn’t crying.” The other protests. Seung Gil looks unconvinced.

“Tell that to your swollen eyes.”

JJ feels an incoming sob wrack through his body. The tremble of his shoulders does not escape Seung Gil’s noticing. There’s a pause and even though he isn’t looking, JJ can feel the other’s eyes staring holes in him, calculating and clinical. He isn’t expecting any sort of empathy, bracing himself for a snide or cruel remark as he tries to figure out why on earth he thought that he could kindle any form of friendship with someone who just repeatedly pushes him away. He begins, “Look, I’m sorry th--”

“Hey.” Seung Gil’s voice is firm. His eyes hold a softer gaze than anticipated. “It’s… Okay to be vulnerable every once in awhile… You don’t always have to act so tough.”

The unforeseen generosity of Seung Gil’s actions break down JJ far more than any criticism could. It’s been so long since anyone but his fiancee said something so kind that isn’t praise. It’s only then does JJ realize that what he needs isn’t reassurance or boosts to his ego--he needs someone to understand. Praise loses its effect after one hears it nonstop for years, but Seung Gil’s words are of a kind that JJ hadn’t even heard a sentence of in the past few years. He forces out a “thank you” but his words are choked enough that he doubts they’re coherent. Somehow, he feels that Seung Gil still got the message if the slight nod is any indication. Their interaction feels oddly refreshing.

It’s just then when the barista calls their names. The older one of the two offers to fetch their drinks for them; a kind gesture that JJ doubts would’ve happened had he not been on the verge of breaking into tears in public; wonders if that’s Seung Gil’s way of comfort--small, moderate bits of encouragement and acts of kindness equally small but all the more worthy of appreciation. JJ smiles at the thought of making progress in their friendship.

“She said that they’re closing up shop soon.” He nods his head in the direction of the cashier before questioning JJ as he sits across from him. “What are you smiling about?”

“Oh nothing.” He laughs and winks as though covering up his sadness. “Just happy that I made a new friend.”

Seung Gil rolls his eyes as he pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers in submission, “Alright, alright, we’re _friends_ , if that’d shut you up.”

The last part does very little to discourage JJ. He takes the latte. It’s warm in his fingers when he wraps both hands around it, wisps of steam floating upwards from an opening in the top. He blows on it as if doing so would help cool it down. He takes a light sip and the hot drink spreads across his tongue in an explosion of not quite flavor but rather heat and he inhales sharply, face scrunching on instinct. Seung Gil’s expression carries either confusion, surprise that JJ would be stupid enough to burn his tongue the way he did, or worry. JJ believes that its the second and gives a thumbs up. His voice carries a lisp and what he had originally intended to be “I’m fine” sounds like “Ahm thine” and the crease between the other man’s eyebrows deepen.

JJ checks his phone quickly and when he sees that it’s 11:40, he switches the conversation topic. His words are slightly garbled due to his numbed tongue, but he’s confident that they’re comprehendible. “Since it is pretty late, how about we go back to the hotel?”

“Sure.” Seung Gil pauses. “If you stay five paces behind or in front of me at all times.”

“I thought we were _friends_.” JJ adds a fake sniffle in between the words to draw out whatever empathy Seung Gil might have had for him, if any.

“... Fine--”

He’s surprised when his guilt trip works. Genuine tears threaten to spill.

“--but only if you stop crying.”


	4. and i will show you how

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seung Gil hates talking about marriage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> posting w/o beta like a champ

JJ and Seung Gil make their exit from Starbucks, departing for the cozy hotel that they both coincidentally booked a room at that, also coincidentally, put their rooms next to each other. It’s a cold winter night in Barcelona, and the only source of heat that Seung Gil has is the small--short-- cup of coffee in his hand. That and the three layers of clothing he stacked over his body to keep warm. And the dark scarf he slung around his neck messily. He peers at JJ out of the corner of his eye; the 19 year old appears to be having an unusual amount of fun with the idiotic grin on his face. There’s a drop of his coffee dripping down the green straw stuck in his drink.

JJ catches him staring and tilts his latte in Seung Gil’s direction as though offering. “Want some?”

Seung Gil shakes his head no. The thought of sharing drinks, especially with someone like JJ, is vulgar and he almost gags. He would have actually gagged, had he not been standing right next to said vulgar person, and even though he may not show it at times, Seung Gil has manners. A thick, uncomfortable silence befalls the two.

“You should come support me at the Finals.” JJ says courageously after a while, already seeming to rebound from his terrible loss just hours ago. He smiles his usual charismatic, wide grin that isn’t as obnoxious as it usually is. Seung Gil can’t figure out whether or not he’s building up a resistance to it or already dying from overexposure.

“I came to support Phichit, not you.” He says, ignoring his own deliberate and subtle use of past tense.

“Oh I see.” JJ sounds disappointed. “Well, you could still come and see me.”

Seung Gil opens his mouth to protest but hesitates. There are certainly many ways to go about the question and he’s unsure of all of his answers. He shuts his mouth. No reply. Had JJ not been recovering from such a large blunder, Seung Gil might’ve just torn into him with the harshest words he could muster.

“If I do, you better impress me.” Seung Gil says after a moment’s contemplation. He normally doesn’t say things like this, but Seung Gil didn’t really intend on watching anyone’s performance at all and simply wanted to be there for moral support, but he figures that it doesn’t matter if it’s just 3 minutes to watch JJ’s free skate.

“I’ll blow your mind.” JJ promises. He has a cocky smirk on his face, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

Seung Gil suspects that the pain from messing up his short program still has yet to heal and doesn’t say anything. He’s not in any place to criticize the other for being so hungover on failure and decides to play along, adding humorlessly in his typical monotonous tone, “I’m sure you will.” He takes a sip of his coffee.

JJ blinks and it’s clear that he wasn’t expecting such a compliant reaction to his antics, it’s almost as though he’d expected for Seung Gil to insult him or fire back in some sort of hostile or aggressive way. He chuckles, gaze soft as he says teasingly with a wink charming enough to get him arrested for attempted manslaughter, “Just for you.”

Seung Gil chokes on his coffee and spits it out. The dark liquid splatters across concrete, bubbles formed at the surface of the puddle. JJ’s laugh rings in his ears.

“Kidding.” JJ adds with a chuckle, patting the other’s back. Seung Gil shrinks away at the hand but doesn’t exactly hate it. It’s not as unpleasant as it usually is.

“Could you refrain from so much physical contact?” He hisses a little, pushing--not slapping--the younger man’s hand away. He would sooner die than keep such close contact with JJ, especially with the way that it’s slowly pushing his heart rate up, causing him to conclude that even being around the skater is bad for his health.

JJ laughs and shakes his head, clearly not put off by the hostility. It’s almost as though he’s handling a stubborn animal. “Alright, alright.” He takes a step to the side away from JJ as they walk. “You’re so much more open with things on the ice than off it.”

“You watch me skate?” Seung Gil eyes him carefully as though gauging his response.

“Mhm. Since I was still in the junior division.” JJ says, laughing a little in embarrassment as he quickly adds, “It’s a better idea to watch my future competition than to go in blindly. Did you take me for an idiot?”

“Just a little bit.” Seung Gil admits, voice deflated. He shrugs. It’d be interesting if JJ thought _anyone_ was worth watching. “I honestly thought that you believed you were too good to bother watching anyone else.”

JJ looks a little offended and averts his gaze, lower lip sticking out in a subtle pout. “If I were _actually_ like that, I wouldn’t be _engaged_.” Seung Gil glances at the finalist’s hand and he sees a glint of gold before Jean shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“Oh. Congratulations on your engagement.” He states insincerely.

“Thanks! I’ll definitely invite you to our wedding.”

“As if I’d attend.”

“Why not? I might even make you my best man!” JJ laughs as the Korean falls silent. They trudge along the snowy path in uncomfortable silence until they stop at the hotel’s front entrance. The hotel looks fairly average and Seung Gil is a little surprised that JJ selected something of such humble appearance. He’d expected the Canadian to book something much flashier and showier; he’s almost a little impressed. “So I’m guessing that’s a no to being my best man?” JJ sounds confused.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“No.”

“I’m getting mixed signals here.”

Seung Gil ignores him and continues into the building. It feels as though his mood has been ruined by the talk of marriage. He never took himself for an emotional man, but marriage has always been a sore topic for him, and he begrudgingly steps into the elevator. It takes all he has to not push the “close doors” button on JJ but he doesn’t because no one would do that to a _friend_. He sighs, “No I don’t want to be your best man.”

“Why not? It’ll be fun.” JJ insists as Seung Gil presses the buttons. The Korean only learns then that if he were to be given a dollar for every time JJ annoyed him, he wouldn’t have to pursue a career in professional figure skating anymore and could live out the rest of his days in comfortable luxury.

“Don’t you think it’s a little early for marriage, anyway? We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, okay?” He sounds more defensive than he intended to.

“It’s not early if I love her.” JJ answers smoothly. The doors to the elevator open to their floor and Seung Gil pushes his way through out of the small space, walking down the hall fast to his hotel room. He fishes out a set of keys from his pocket, ignoring the Canadian running down the hall after him. He can hear JJ yelling. It’s almost embarrassing. “Seung Gil, you’re walking too fast!”

Seung Gil tries inserting the keys and turning them as fast as he can, but it turns out that he’s turning them the wrong way. Shitty hotel locks. JJ catches up before he unlocks the door. “What do you want?”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“I just don’t like talking about marriage.” Seung Gil opens his door and tries not to give a glare as he says, “Goodbye, Jean.”

“Adieu--” JJ looks perplexed, but he barely catches it before he closes the door on the younger one. He presses his back to the door, vaguely hearing the adjacent room being opened and then he knows that JJ decided not to be persistent like he’d anticipated.

Seung Gil decides to take his mind off of what just happened by glancing at his phone. 5 missed calls from Phichit. Crap. He doesn’t know if he really wants to call back; part of him wants to tell Phichit that he fell asleep, but he knows that the Thai will be angry either way. He ends up calling him back anyway, out of courtesy. The call is picked up almost immediately.

“Seung Gil!” Phichit sounds less energetic than usual. Seung Gil figures that it’s stress caused by the Grand Prix Final. “Geez, I thought you died in the 2 minutes it took for me to call you back. What happened?”

Seung Gil pauses and shakes his head. “A nuisance.”

“You call everything but your dog a nuisance.” Phichit counters with a hearty laugh. “So what was this alleged nuisance? I’m sure whatever it was wouldn’t take almost an hour.”

“JJ.” He drawls, drawing out the name with mire. Remembering that JJ is just next door, he speaks in a low voice. “I accidentally called him and he took things a little seriously. Felt sorry for the guy because he messed up his short program so badly so I just went along with things; ended up grabbing some coffee with him at 11:30.”

Phichit is quiet for such a long time that Seung Gil begins feeling embarrassed, and just when the Korean is about to apologize for his sudden outburst, he hears the other begin laughing. “Wow, I’m surprised that you’re actually _kind of_ hanging out with someone. Sure, it’s JJ and he can get kinda annoying but, hey, you’re making friends.”

“He’s not annoying.” Seung Gil says defensively, and he realizes that that statement sounded better in his head. He’d pay a large sum of money to rescind that statement. “Well, not as much as I thought he was, anyway.”

He hears stifled giggling on Phichit’s end before the other speaks. “So it was fun?”

“I guess you could call it that.” He grumbles, trying to find a better word to describe it in his head but he can’t find any.

“I’m kind of surprised, though.”

“Why?”

“He actually managed to drag you out of your room to keep you company.” The twenty year old can’t see Phichit, but he knows that he’s pouting. “You didn’t even reply to my texts until a week after I tried getting in contact with you.”

“That’s--” Seung Gil frowns. “I guess I’m just better at opening up to people now.”

“Mhm, sure.” Phichit says before teasingly adding, “Remember how JJ’s free skate was the only performance in the last Grand Prix that you bothered watching?”

“I didn’t know how much of an egomaniac he was back then but--” Seung Gil defends. He doesn’t deny the fact that he found JJ’s skating even _remotely_ interesting the previous skating season and the Canadian’s narcissism doesn’t play a role in whether or not Seung Gil likes his skating, it’s just an excuse for Phichit to take without pressing further.

“You _did_.” Phichit finishes and doesn’t take Seung Gil’s bluff. If Seung Gil weren’t in a decent mood, he might’ve just told Phichit to shut up. There’s a few moments of silence before the finalist adds, “Well, if I want to wake up in time for morning practice, I better go to sleep now.”

“Ok, bye.” Seung Gil says directly before hanging up, not exactly giving Phichit much of an opportunity to bid farewell in return. Somehow, the conversation has him more excited to watch the free skate programs more than ever, and excitement for anything is a rare occurrence for the stoic. The anticipation makes him restless, as though he could stay up the whole night because of it, and the feeling is foreign; he doesn’t like it. So much energy for _one_ event that he isn’t even taking part in doesn’t suit him. He doesn’t know what’s so different about this year’s Grand Prix Final; it is almost exactly like last year’s.

He doesn’t know.


	5. smile on face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seung Gil Lee is a fucking idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoo another chapter posted at 1am in the morning without any proofreading B^)

JJ is frowning when he opens the door to his hotel room. His fiance, Isabella, is in the single king sized bed they got with the room, her midnight black hair spilled across the white of her pillow in a beautiful contrast. The sight brings a soft smile to his face, but he isn’t internally gushing to himself about how gorgeous she is like usual and he attributes it to the way he just feels depressed. He slips into bed beside her after changing into a clean set of clothes and as his dark blue gaze falls upon the ring on his finger, he feels a tinge of uncertainty. Did he anger Seung Gil? He realizes that he may have gotten carried off. Perhaps the other did feel a little uncomfortable discussing marriage, but why?

He is still inquiring about the situation when he slowly drifts off. His dreams consist of black-haired Korean beauties, but when he stirs, he knows that the only beauty for him is Isabella.

JJ wakes up on his own and glances at the clock. It is 7:30 A.M. and his alarm is supposed to go off in fifteen minutes. While he would normally gladly take the sleep, he feels as though it’d be better to just disable the alarm and proceed with his morning routine. He is careful not to wake up his fiance as he slips out of bed. His hair is sticking out in many different places; he’s had better mornings, but he can’t let it get to him. It is the morning of the free skate programs and he feels pressured knowing that Seung Gil is watching. It’s a nice kind of pressured, the kind where he wants to impress and he’s somewhat honored that Seung Gil—the skater he’s looked up to when he was only 15 and in the junior division—is now watching his free skate. He better spice up his routine in some way; a plan is just a plan, anyway. He could surprise the crowd with an extra quad or—

An idea strikes him like lightning.

JJ heads to the rink where morning practice is taking place earlier than usual and does unexpectedly well. He plans on making a comeback.

-

Seung Gil wakes up feeling like absolute shit because 1) reflecting back on the phone call, Phichit totally thinks he’s interested in a narcissistic asshole like JJ 2) he just blew up in JJ’s face the previous night in an irrational manner that is completely uncharacteristic of him and 3) he should apologize to JJ. The fact that all three of these things regard JJ makes Seung Gil skeptical of #1, but he dismisses the possibility. He is simply perplexed and just needs to avoid JJ and cut away any ties that may have formed in the previous twelve hours.

But then he goes on the internet and every social media account he is in possession of is blowing up from posts about the Grand Prix Finals. A good deal of them are of JJ’s blunder the previous day.

So much for ignoring him.

 _There’s no helping it_ , he decides as he makes his morning coffee. He sits himself down. How’s Phichit doing anyway? The twenty-year old watches a livestream of the morning practice. Things appear to be going fine but then the camera pans over to Jean-Jacques motherfucking Leroy all up in his tan-skinned, dark-eyed glory. He switches tabs until it’s about time for the free programs to begin, and of course, JJ is the first to go. When Seung Gil sees this, he wants to close the laptop all together, but he remembers that he promised to watch, so he does.

He does, and doesn’t regret it. He can see the way that the skater fumbles at the beginning and how it’s a gradual climb back to the confidence he originally had. The Korean notices little details in everything that he hasn’t noticed before—the way that JJ pivots so gracefully, the way he glides across the ice with ease. JJ has always skated that way, and Seung Gil knows from the few clips he’s seen posted on Instagram. Sure, Seung Gil can do those things, too, but it looks nicer on JJ.

Seung Gil backtracks, his thoughts running out of control— _It looks nicer on JJ_.

He refuses to believe that he admitted this and shoves it to the back of his brain, attention trained on the free skate when it happens. He sees the way the finalist builds up speed and then slides into it—a beautiful quadruple loop. Only Seung Gil has been seen landing this quad, but that wasn’t true anymore. Now JJ has done it. The thought brings a smile to Seung Gil’s face. He takes it as a direct challenge.

“JJ landed a quadruple loop?” He muses to himself, still caught off guard. “The Four Continents will be fun.”

After the free skate, when JJ is done with his time in the kiss and cry booth, Seung Gil dials his number; on purpose, this time. The call is picked up unexpectedly quick, before Seung Gil has even gathered what he wanted to say yet. “So… Good job with your free skate program.”

“You watched it?” Seung Gil can hear the smile in the other man’s voice. It’s as though he’s talking to a hyperactive puppy.

“Yes, I did.” It takes all he has to keep his formal, emotionless facade. “It was executed rather well.”

“Thanks!” JJ gives a heartwarming laugh that stirs something in Seung Gil’s chest; music to his ears. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” So this is how people with a “rock star” personality are like.

“Congratulations on landing your quadruple loop.” The corners of his lip twitch upwards as a tiny smile ghosts his lips. “I look forwards to competing with you in the Four Continents.”

“Yeah, right back at ya.” There’s indistinct voices in the background. Seung Gil suspects that it’s the media looking for an interview. “Gotta go, I’m a little busy at the moment.”

“Bye.” Seung Gil disguises the disappointment in his voice as well as he can. There is no reason to feel the clinginess that he does. He says hastily before the other ends the call, “I’ll call later?”

“Of course.” He hears the way JJ is surprised. Perhaps he should not have said anything. This, the whole conversation to be quite honest, is completely ruining Seung Gil’s resolve to avoid JJ. His cheeks burn with embarrassment. _I’ll call later_? What a brainless thing to say. Another problem to the pile of things he is troubled with at the moment, and this time it’s caused by him.

Hours later, he hears the sound of voices by his door and he quickly identifies one of them. It belongs to JJ. He _has_ said something about calling later, but face-to-face conversations are generally put him more at ease. He opens the door and peeks his head out, ignoring the cold air filtering into his heated room. It’s JJ and his fiancee and it takes all Seung Gil has not to be completely taken off guard and discouraged. Discouraged about what, he doesn’t know. Maybe it’s because it looks like they’re having a moment that he should not be interrupting, judging from the way that Jean’s arm is hugged around Isabella and they’re laughing. He can see JJ’s smile, and it’s prettier in person, like gold, or a jewel that he can’t have—something he can’t have, precisely that. He and the bronze medalist make awkward eye contact and JJ opens his mouth as if to say something before Seung Gil retreats back into his room. He slams his door closed and squeezes his eyes shut.

He knows that he doesn’t hold romantic feelings towards JJ. He is Seung Gil fucking Lee, and he’ll be damned if his first love in his twenty years of life is an insufferable narcissistic asshole whose presence he cannot stand. It does not make sense.

There’s knocking at the door. “Seung Gil, did you have something to say to me?”

He doesn’t reply.

“Don’t pretend you _aren’t_ there. I saw you five seconds ago.”

Seung Gil winces under the heavy words. He has zero qualms about ignoring JJ, but he figures that after all the rude things he’s done to him, the least he could do is open the damn door, so he does. “What do you want?”

“You had something to say?” He is right in front of JJ. They aren’t too far or close, but the fact that they’re even conversing makes Seung Gil anxious because he’s in an awful situation as of the moment. Perhaps face-to-face conversation was not a good idea. Seung Gil knows he would prefer the phone.

“Look…” Seung Gil sighs in resignation. He puts on a scowl to give off the impression that he’s being bothered, but it’s anything but that. “It’s nothing. I was just heading outside to do my business but you and your girlfriend were being disgusting in the hallway and I didn’t want to intrude.”

"Being disgusting? I was just walking with her." The Canadian looks unconvinced, his eyebrows furrowed in clear confusion.

Seung Gil remains silent. He doesn't know what's wrong with him. They _were_ just walking together; there's no reason to be so hung up over it, but he is and he doesn't know how to logically explain this sensation. He sees a brief look of hurt cross JJ’s face and something heavy weighs on his chest. The taller one of the two nods slowly and speaks uncharacteristically coldly, “Well then, I’m sorry for bothering you. Goodbye, Seung Gil.” It's as though the older one's silence did nothing but anger JJ.

His words get caught in his throat as JJ walks away. The door swings shut with no one to keep it open, and while the lock clicks, his heart drops. Seung Gil didn’t mean a single word of what he said. Regret plagues his consciousness as he taps his forehead on the wall. He would slam it if JJ weren’t right next door.

He fucked up.


	6. never shed a tear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seung Gil tries to patch things up.
> 
> Tries.

In that moment, Seung Gil feels as though a chasm had just opened in his chest. His shoulders are heavy and heaving with labored breaths, and he can hear murmurs from the other side of the wall separating him and JJ.  _ What’s wrong? _ A feminine voice, undoubtedly belonging to JJ’s fiancee, asks.  _ Nothing _ , he can hear JJ say, and the rest are but indistinct whispers slowly subsiding to nothing.

Seung Gil decides to shrug off his pain as much as he can, lulling it to a mere unnerving ache. If JJ says that it’s nothing, then it probably is, though it is concerning that JJ looks upset enough that someone else could tell and ask about it. But it’s JJ. Would he be forgiven? Although the possibility that things will turn out fine appear to be high, he can’t seem to shake off the thud in his chest and the heaviness on his shoulders, he can’t get rid of the never-ceasing melancholy that appears to loom over his mind. It’s like a disease he can’t cure, he figures as he opens his phone - one unread text from Phichit.

(17:48) Phichit: are you going to the banquet?

(18:12) SGL: My flight back to Korea is scheduled after it, so maybe.

(18:12) Phichit: maybe????

(18:16) SGL: Yeah, maybe.

(18:16) Phichit: why wouldnt you?

He hesitates, knowing that JJ, the bronze medalist, would likely be there, too, and it’s too awkward between them now. But since when did he, Seung Gil Lee, care about his relationships with others?

(18:17) SGL: It seems like a nuisance.

(18:17) Phichit: yeah yeah suure

(18:17) Phichit: see ya at the banquet

Seung Gil doesn’t respond and turns off his phone, staring blankly at the hotel room’s cream-colored walls when it occurs to him: JJ will be there. Maybe they won’t see each other, the banquet is pretty large after all, and he’s conflicted about whether or not he wants to see JJ or if he wants to just avoid the skater entirely.

He sighs as he opens up his messages with JJ, grimacing at the brightness of his own screen. He should, at the very least, apologize for his rude outburst moments ago but judging from the conversation he can vaguely hear on the other side of the wall, JJ is busy. So he waits.

And waits.

The talking doesn’t stop for hours, well after Seung Gil’s patience wears and he ends up scrolling through social media to see how the skating community reacted to this year’s Grand Prix Final. He doesn’t seem like it, but he does check up on things, just to keep himself updated. 

Most of the posts he sees are about Yuri Plisetsky’s gold medal and all his fans are exploding. How annoying.

Just when he’s about to turn his phone off, it buzzes in his hand and at the top, a text notification appears from someone whose name he reads as “King JJ♛♛♛” and he realizes that he forgot to rename the contact.

(19:20) King JJ♛♛♛: hey seunggil

(19:20) King JJ♛♛♛: im sorry about

(19:20) King JJ♛♛♛: well im not sure what i did wrong but im sorry that it upset you so much

_ God, why did this guy have to be so understanding? _ Seung Gil feels nauseous at the thought. 

(19:21) SGL: You didn’t do anything wrong. I should be the one apologizing for my rudeness.

(19:21) King JJ♛♛♛: hey its fine im sure that it was partially my fault anyway lol

(19:21) King JJ♛♛♛: youre not the type of person who would get mad over nothing, seunggil

Why is JJ placing so much faith in him? Seung Gil thinks that he’d be better off if JJ just assumed the worse of him - that way the feeling of guilt would disappear.

(19:22) SGL: I told you - you did nothing wrong. I was just in a bit of a bad mood, that’s all.

_ Stop being so nice. _

(19:22) King JJ♛♛♛: oh really?

(19:22) King JJ♛♛♛: well im still sorry for bugging you

(19:22) King JJ♛♛♛: i hope u feel better soon

_ No, no, no. JJ, you’re not supposed to be this painful, stop. _

(19:24) SGL: Thanks.

(19:24) King JJ♛♛♛: np!

_ Fucking hell. _ Seung Gil takes a moment to stop himself from throwing his phone at the wall. He became friends with JJ expecting an easy-to-get-along-with yet somewhat annoying narcissist, not… Not this. He changes the topic because the current one is becoming increasingly difficult to talk about.

(19:25) SGL: Are you going to the banquet?

(19:25) King JJ♛♛♛: lol ya i kinda have to

(19:25) King JJ♛♛♛: are you?

(19:30) SGL: Maybe.

(19:30) King JJ♛♛♛: is that a yes?

(19:31) SGL: I guess.

(19:31) King JJ♛♛♛: lol hey we should go together

(19:31) King JJ♛♛♛: yanno

(19:31) King JJ♛♛♛: carpool

A smile graces Seung Gil’s face, but he forces it off.

(19:32) SGL: No thank you.

(19:32) King JJ♛♛♛: but we’re so close?

(19:32) King JJ♛♛♛: it’d be more efficient

(19:32) King JJ♛♛♛: lol aren’t you all about efficiency

(19:35) SGL: Fine.

So much for avoiding JJ. Seung Gil is sure that whatever “bad mood” he’s in is because of JJ, and he decides that when they get there, he’ll just go off and leave JJ and his fiancee alone because that’s  _ how things should be _ . He’d just be a nuisance if he stayed, he figures, but he doesn’t mind the idea of attending the banquet with JJ, though he suspects that he’ll spend the entire time third-wheeling as usual.

When he finishes picking out his outfit for the banquet, Seung Gil falls asleep on the sofa bed peacefully, blissfully. His dreams consist of beautiful Canadian ice skaters and he forgets all about it when he wakes up the following morning, and in the end, he has never changed the contact name, and King JJ remains King JJ.


End file.
